


incantation - a stucky au

by StuckyisEndgame



Series: Stucky Hogwarts AU [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - School, Awkward Crush, Awkward Sexual Situations, Best Friends, Bicuriosity, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Childhood Friends, Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Gay Bucky Barnes, Hogwarts, Lonely Steve Rogers, Love Confessions, M/M, Magic, Male Friendship, Marvel Universe, Oblivious Steve Rogers, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-World War II Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Protective Steve Rogers, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Stucky - Freeform, Teen Crush, Teenage Drama, bad boy bucky, stevebucky - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-01-12 09:31:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18443804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StuckyisEndgame/pseuds/StuckyisEndgame
Summary: Steve Rogers receives a letter that forces him to leave the life he loves behind. En route to his new school, he meets someone that leaves him breathless.





	1. letters

Steve Rogers awoke, his eyelids heavy and blond hair tousled from his lengthy sleep. He began to rub his eyes, stars sparkling behind his lids as he tried to erase his fatigue. Voices could be heard as footsteps followed down the staircase; his twin siblings argued over something irrelevant, so loudly that it woke Steve up. With a groan, he swung his legs over the side of his bed and sat up straight. The ancient mattress creaked under his weight, or lack thereof, and poked Steve with numerous broken springs.

They weren't very wealthy, he and his family. The wallpaper in Steve's room was peeling off, his carpet speckled with stains of spilled paint and food from his childhood. Nowadays, he ate with his family down in the dining room, which is where he was headed.

Steve pulled on grey sweatpants, a plain white tee, and some thick socks. He sighed in content at the comfort his clothing gave him; it felt like a big hug. It's autumn now, the air crisp and nippy. Steve decided to pull on a dressing gown for good measure before plodding downstairs. He could feel the cool wood through his socks. It was only a matter of time before the cool weather left him ill yet again, and he sighed at the realisation.

Their house wasn't very big, despite it being two storeys, so when Steve had descended the staircase he was stood directly at the front door. Something light crunched under his foot, so he reached down to pick it up. It was a letter, addressed to Steve Rogers, at 56 Prendwick Drive. An expression of shock was plastered on his face; nobody ever wrote to him. He hadn't received a letter in years, since...

"Steve! Your toast is going to be stale if you don't come and eat!" he heard his father call for him from the dining room. Steve quickly shoved the letter in his gown pocket before making his way to the kitchen to pour himself a coffee. His parents weren't happy that he was drinking coffee; he was only ten, going on eleven. He was so tired, though, by excelling through his first year of school and from his jobs. Most of their neighbours were elderly, so they needed their gardens weeded and lawns mowed. Steve had to earn extra cash for the things he wanted, and there was an extensive list. As long as he was earning his own income, Steve's parents agreed that he could drink coffee as long as it wasn't proper, or too strong.

Steve ripped a packet of cappuccino coffee open, pouring it into his cup as he listened to his siblings gossip at the table. They were a few years older than him, so their gossip was a lot more interesting than his. Pietro was telling Wanda that one of his friends had found alcohol in their History teachers cupboard, earning a smack from their mother. Steve chuckled, the event playing out in his head without even having to turn around and look.

"Got something to say, punk?" Pietro raised his voice at Steve's, his smile falling. Steve's siblings were nice to him most of the time, but he was never fully accepted in his household. He was very different to Wanda and Pietro.

"If Mr Edwards had alcohol in his cupboard, it's because he has to tolerate having you in his class," Steve retorted.

"Ooooh, burn!" Wanda playfully teased. Steve could feel Pietro's glare piercing through him.

"Quit it, kids," their father chimed in, and Steve released the breath he didn't realise he was holding. Sometimes, he felt as if he was walking on eggshells around his siblings.

Steve says a quick hello and goodbye to his family, before taking a slice of toast and heading upstairs with his coffee. His father warns him not to spill it, and Steve waves him off as he leaves the room. The letter feels heavy in Steve's pocket as he ascends the staircase, taking two stairs at a time, careful not to spill his coffee.

After shutting the door with his hip, he places the cup of coffee on his night stand and quickly gobbles up the slice of toast. Steve's fingers are greasy with butter, so he wipes them on his dressing gown before pulling out the letter.

The last time he got a letter was one of the most emotional times of Steve's life. He always felt as if he didn't belong. For starters, his parents and siblings all had dark hair, whereas Steve's was a golden blond. They were all fair, so he didn't think so much of the difference in hair colour. His mother told him it had skipped a generation before it passed down to Steve, and she showed him a photo of his grandfather. The man did look like Steve; he was tall and had a very strong jawline, and most importantly, he had golden blond hair. Though, Steve still felt that something was off.

He'd collected a few hundred dollars two years prior, the small eight and a half year old having helped his neighbours around their properties. Steve had help from his school councillor to get involved with a DNA testing service. He managed to take DNA from both of his parents in secret, and send of all three of their samples to be tested. His councillor was waiting for him a month later, a letter in hand while she was stood at the schools front gate, a pained look on her face.

She had told him that there is no match in their DNA samples, that Steve was unrelated to his parents. Steve asked her to keep it secret; he knew his siblings had no idea, and he couldn't bear to face his parents about this. She agreed, and his life seemed to feel heavier with the weight of this secret on his shoulders.

Now, fiddling with this letter in his hands, he wondered if it would be of the same significance.

 


	2. departure

The pads of Steve's fingers brushed over a hard bump on the back of the letter, so he flopped it over. Sealing the envelope was a blob of wax, with a crest stamped in the centre. Highlighted with metallic gold, it shone in the morning light streaming through Steve's bedroom window. So very carefully, Steve peeled the wax back, popping the envelope open. His heart rate rose, making his hands shake with anxiety and uncertainty. Part of the letter was peeking out, and it looked worn, like it was hundreds of years old. Steve slipped it out of its envelope and carefully unfolded it, his eyes falling on the beautiful scrawls written with a fountain pen. The same crest sat at the top of the letter. It read:

"Dear Mr Rogers

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. 

Students shall be required to report to the Chamber of Reception upon arrival, the dates for which shall be duly advised.

Please ensure that the utmost attention be made to the list of requirements attached herewith.

We very much look forward to receiving you as part of the new generation of Hogwarts' heritage.

Yours sincerely,

Professor McGonagall."

Part of Steve wanted to run down the stairs and yell at his parents for this ridiculous prank, or rather his siblings. The other part of him wanted to hop on a train and ride straight to the school, though the letter never mentioned an address. Steve's entire body trembled as he made his way down the stairs once again, and he plopped himself down on the couch next to his father, letter in hand. Christopher Rogers' eyes fell to Steve's vice-like grip. Chris opened his mouth to speak, but slowly closed it with a sigh. He repositioned himself on the couch to face Steve, back straight and eyebrows furrowed, wondering how he was going to tell his son. 

"I know I'm adopted," Steve began. Christopher was taken aback. "I did a DNA test with Mrs Wilson when I was eight, I knew something wasn't right with me."

Steves bottom lip trembled as his father placed a comforting hand on Steve's forearm, giving it a squeeze. 

"Do you want to know?" It was a vague question, but Steve knew exactly what his father meant. 

Steve nodded, and they went upstairs to talk in his parents room. They had sent Wanda and Pietro out to the park whilst they spoke to Steve, to avoid any eavesdropping. 

Christopher and Elizabeth told Steve that they weren't his biological parents; Steve was adopted when he was two years old. They spoke of how after Wanda and Pietro were born, they were no longer able to conceive. They went to an adoption agency after an unsuccessful attempt to find a surrogate, and Steve instantly caught their eye. He was an orphan. His parents had died in a house fire while Steve was at daycare, but Chris and Liz spared him the gory details. They told him that before he was a Rogers, he was a Sutcliffe. 

"Steve Sutcliffe has a nice ring to it," Steve smiled at his parents, trying to make light of the situation. They smiled back, taking Steve's hands in theirs. Steve had let go of the letter, which was now sitting in his lap as he sat cross legged on the mattress. 

"Is that your acceptance letter?" Elizabeth's voice was shaky. She wanted to spare Steve of these details also, but she knew this conversation was inevitable. Steve nodded at her question. 

"What's Hogwarts?" Steve still thought it was a prank that his family was playing, until she saw Christopher's lip tremble. Chris knew he was going to lose his son. 

"The thing about your parents..." Elizabeth trailed off as Christopher left the bedroom, their eyes following him before he softly closed the door behind him. "Honey, your parents could do things that we couldn't do. There's a special place out there just for you," Liz pointed at her window. "They do great things; they help keep us normal people safe from harm. They want you to join them," she smiled at Steve. 

"It's not a joke?" Steve whispered, earning a chuckle from his mother. 

"I sort of wish it was," she squeezed Steve's hand. "Think of it as boarding school. You will meet new people, you will get an education there, and best of all you will find your purpose. You will feel like you belong there, which I'm sure you've struggled to find a belonging. You will have to leave as soon as possible. Please, pack your bags," she extended a hand toward the door. 

Steve slowly pulled himself from the bed, looking quizzically and nervously at his mother. She nodded. 

Steve didn't know what to pack. If he was going to boarding school, he'd have to pack light; only the essentials like clothes, toiletries, minimal things for entertainment. He was glad to have saved up money from his odd jobs over the past year. Steve felt as if he had to save for something big. 

Steve's suitcase lay on the floor as he stared into the empty abyss, realising that this was going to be the only thing keeping him tethered to his life in this household. Regretfully, he began to pack his things, making sure to stuff his ten year old teddy bear in the side so that it's hidden. He rested his hands on his thighs as he sat on his feet and legs, closing his eyes and inhaling the familiar scent of his bedroom. His eyes shot open, and he raced to his nightstand. Steve wrapped his hand around the Yankee Candle that was sat atop the stand, inhaling the scent after he popped the cap off. 

Steve wondered how they managed to perfectly capture the scent of Autumn in a bottle; Honeycrisp Apple Cider. He popped the cap back on and shoved it in his already bulging suitcase, before zipping it shut. 

Before he could argue, he and his things were being loaded into the car. He said a quick goodbye to Wanda and Pietro, his brother looking away most of the time whereas Wanda was very clingy to her little brother. If Steve wasn't mistaken, Pietro had tears welling up in his eyes. Steve gave everyone a second, maybe a third hug, he wasn't too sure as his head was cloudy with shock. He hopped in the taxi and spun around in the back seat as the car crawled down the driveway. His family were huddled together, and Pietro had his cardigan pulled up over his face. 

He waved as he watched his life fade into a blur behind him, the rims of his eyes filling with tears and threatening to spill over.


	3. diagon alley

A/N: I swear to god if I say Harry instead of Steve once in this fic I'm going to delete myself. 

\----

Steve comes to realise that his taxi driver isn't his regular. His parents had often put him in taxi's to visit his aunt, who is a fourty minute drive away. 

"Right now, I'm taking you to Hagrid and he will show you how to get to Hogwarts. He will accompany you there and get you settled in. Oh, no need to look so worried!" The driver says as he glances in the rear-view mirror. "You're in good hands. At any point once you're at Hogwarts, you can contact your family if you are needing to," he glances in his mirror again. "Hah! Those won't work once you're there. You may as well throw it out the window."

Steve looked down at his phone. He'd pulled a picture of his family up on the gallery application. He missed them already, and he wasn't willing to throw his life away just yet. Steve pressed the lock button on his phone and looked up out the window. It had started to rain outside, but not very heavily, which felt very sombre. The weather looked how Steve felt on the inside. 

They drove for what felt like hours before they reached a cottage close to the train station. It was made of bricks with a thatched roof, and there was a garden outside. The rain seemed to have stopped, and Steve wasn't sure when as he'd zoned out for the majority of the ride. He stepped out onto the gravel road, the stones crunching beneath his feet. There was a rainbow painted in the sky above them, the autumn sun beating down on them harshly, a stark contrast to all the rain they'd been getting. 

The taxi driver wheeled Steve's luggage over to him and shook his hand, before wishing him a safe journey to Hogwarts. Steve thanked him and began walking down the stone path to the cottage. Halfway there, a big and burly man emerged from the front door, plodding out heavily onto the path. He was over seven foot, which shocked Steve as he himself was less than six foot.

"Are you Hagrid?" Steve called out, watching as the man hurried over to him. He engulfed Steve in a big hug, lifting the boy off the ground in the process.

"I am!" he exclaimed. "You must be Steve Rogers," his smile beamed and made Steve smile uncontrollably in return.

"The one and only."

"Yes, well let's get going! There's no time to waste. I've heard the other students are on their way," Hagrid's voice seemed as big as he was, and Steve winced at the volume. He nodded as Hagrid patted him on the shoulder, leading him to the car that was parked on the road. It was a classic, and Steve wasn't sure how Hagrid would fit in the driver's seat, but he did manage.

Once they were settled in the car and on their way to the train station, Hagrid got talking. He was a big talker, Steve had noticed. There wasn't a moment where Hagrid didn't speak, and taking a breath didn't count.

"I'll help you all the way to the train stations entrance, and I'm sure some students will take you from there. They're very nice, this generation. We will need to stop off for some supplies first; as you read in your letter, you will need a uniform, a few books, and various other things," Hagrid droned on and on, until they rounded the corner of an old brick road. "Ah! Here we are." 

"How do we shop for everything that I need?" Steve questioned. As he got out of the car, Steve was skimming over the list attached to his acceptance letter, eyes landing on words like cauldron, wand, pointed hat, and some titles of the various books he was required to pick up. Steve couldn't say he'd read non-fiction about spells and magic. Everything was seeming too outrageous to be true. 

"You just have to know where to look!" Hagrid smiled down at Steve as he opened a door to a store on the corner. It was dim and musty on the inside; the air smelled stale like it hadn't had a breath of fresh air in years. People were sat around tables and at the bar swigging from their mugs, and Steve knew exactly what was in them. Many nights, Christopher had stayed up drinking the exact same thing. 

Hagrid exchanged a few hello's to the bartender and the people sat around him, before quickly excusing himself since they were running late. The pair emerged from a back door, which led to absolutely nowhere. They faced a tall brick wall. Hagrid whipped out a stick from his coat pocket, and tapped the end on the wall a few times. Steve watched in amazement as the wall opened up before them, the bricks shifting and transforming, revealing an archway that led to a crowded alley. 

"Welcome to Diagon Alley!" Hagrid spoke, appearing to be chuffed with himself after seeing the look on Steve's face. 

Hoards of people were dressed in long black coats, their heads decorated with pointed black hats, excitedly conversing between one another. As Steve and Hagrid walked past shop windows, Steve saw mannequins dressed in uniforms, bats hanging from store signs, broomsticks sat proudly on display.  

Half an hour and a dozen shopping bags later, Steve realised he still needed a wand. Hagrid gestured to a store called Ollivanders, before parting ways with Steve to run some errands of his own. 

Nervous, with a shaky grip on his purchases, Steve pushed the door to Ollivanders open with his shoulder. The store was very earthy; everything was made of a dark wood and overgrown plants decorated shelves. Steve couldn't see anyone, so he decided to call out as he placed his belongings down in a corner. A mop of grey, unruly hair popped out from behind a shelf, greeting Steve with a wacky grin

"Who do we have here?" he asked, cocking his head to one side as if to read Steve.

"Steve Rogers, sir," Steve smiled up at the man, who placed his hand below his chin and nodded.

The man spun around on his heel and made a beeline for a shelf behind the desk. Carefully, he slipped out a long, black box and slowly opened the lid. The inside of the box was decorated with a cream coloured plush silk, and within lay a wand.

"Try this," he spoke as he handed the wand to Steve. A few moments passed before he nodded, gesturing for Steve to give the wand a flick.

"Oh!" Steve exclaimed. With the wand aimed at a plant pot sat atop the shelf, Steve lightly swished and pointed the wand, causing the plant to grow.

"Your wand is made of elm wood, with a unicorn hair core, and is ten inches in length. Oh, and it has a quite bendy flexibility too."

"Thank you!" Steve breathed as he stared in awe at the wand clutched in his hand. Three sharp raps of knuckles on the glass door pulled Steve from his bewilderment. 

Hagrid stood on the other side, holding a fluffy black cat under his left arm.


	4. platform 9 3/4

The train station was teeming with people; being early afternoon, people were finishing school, work, their daily errands. Trains were the most common form of transportation second to cars, which is why Steve tended to avoid train stations. He hated crowds.

"Is that the time?" Hagrid suddenly exclaimed, looking wide-eyed at his watch. "I've got to go, but you can find your way down to the platform, can't you Steve," Hagrid passed him a slip of paper, and Steve nodded as he looked down at it. The train ticket was decorated in big text, reading: Platform 9 3/4.

"There- but there isn't a platform nine and three quarters," Steve declared, looking up to find nobody standing next to him. He whipped his head around furiously, beginning to get nervous again. Hesitantly, Steve made his way down the ramp with his cart to platform nine, where he found a security guard.

"Where can I find platform nine and three quarters?" Steve asked, voice wavering.

"Are you having me on? Scram, kid," the security guard bellowed, brushing Steve off with a flick of his hand.

A voice made Steve's ears perk up. Steve's hearing wasn't the best; his parents sometimes light-heartedly joked that he needed hearing aids, though Steve genuinely thought he did. He tilted his head toward the direction of the voice, looking to the left to find a woman ushering her children along the platform.

"Come on, platform nine and three quarters is just up here!"

Steve grabbed ahold of his cart, wheeling his belongings at the greateat speed he could down the platform. When he caught up to the family, he was short of breath. Steve watched as he let his lungs calm down. A separate family to the one he saw ran straight into the wall of the big brick archway separating platforms nine and ten. Steve's mouth fell open in shock. Magic was real.

"Excuse me," Steve grabbed the attention of the mother he saw. "How do I do that?"

"Oh, it's your first time! Don't worry, it's my son's first year too," her smile was infectious.

Steve looked at her son, a boy slightly taller than him, who had dark hair and a unique smile. When the boy smiled at Steve, it reminded him of a cat, the way his mouth curled up on both sides. The boy had blue eyes and a light dimple in his cheek. Steve couldn't quite pinpoint it, but the boy gave him a familiar feeling. Steve smiled back.

"Just imagine yourself passing through the wall, then walk straight through. It's best if you get a running start," she said, backing up to give Steve room.

Steve took a deep breath - apologising to the cat, which he still had to decide a name for - and began to run. With his eyes wide open, he pictured a magical world on the other side of the brick wall when he easily passed through. Which he did. The atmosphere was different to that of the normal train station; it was light and airy, giving Steve a jittery feeling as he dawdled down the platform taking everything in. A couple of minutes later, the boy passed through the magical entrance and began to follow Steve onto the train. 

In silence, the pair loaded their belongings into the luggage compartment before boarding, being sure to take their pets and other important possessions. The train was spacious; Steve could see down the extensive hallway to the other side of their train car, and there were many booths. After shambling down the walkway, afraid that the floor would move beneath their feet, Steve and Bucky slipped into a booth around the centre of the train car. 

The seat felt very plush under Steve as he sat, causing him to sigh and wriggle further into the cushion. It was the most comfortable he'd felt since the taxi ride from his parents house, which seemed like an entire lifetime ago to Steve. It was absurd; the thought of leaving his family behind and beginning an entirely new life as a wizard. Except, it wasn't a thought, it was a reality. Steve relaxed his shoulders, releasing the tension that had been building up. Bucky could feel Steve's stress. 

Steve shook his head to rid himself of everything running through his mind, and slowly peered up through his eyelashes. The boy looked down at Steve quizzically, his head cocked to one side and a smirk playing on the corner of his lips. 

"What's your name?" the boy asked, his eyes traveling along Steve's entire frame, before resting on the cat. "And his." 

Steve pursed his lips as names floated around his his mind, but none of them seemed right for the fluffy little creature he was clutching on so tightly to. The cat seemed calm and trustful of Steve already; the purring was so loud that even the boy could hear. "I don't know, I havent thought of one yet."

"Y'mean, your folks never gave you a name?" the boy chuckled, showing his pearly white teeth. One of which sat slightly further forward than the rest at the front. 

"Oh, sorry, I meant my cat," Steve smiled awkwardly. "My name is Steve Rogers."

"It's nice to meet you, Steve Rogers. My name is Bucky Barnes. Well, it's actually James, but my middle name is Buchanan. So everyone calls me 'Bucky' for short," the boy rambled on, and Steve caught on that he was nervous and beginning to word-vomit.

To change the subject, and to ease Bucky's social anxiety, Steve asked him what the name of his pet was. A bearded dragon sat atop the boys shoulder and glared at Steve with small, glassy eyes. Bearded dragons weren't on the requirements list, and Steve wondered if Bucky would get away with it. It's not often a student brings a dragon to school. 

Bucky grinned again, and his smile brightened up the room around them. There was something about Bucky that made Steve feel at home. "Falcor," Bucky raised his eyebrows, reading Steve's expression to see if he'd understood the reference. 

"The Neverending Story was one of the first films I ever saw!" Steve exclaimed. 

"Maybe you could call your moggie Gmork, then," Bucky asked, sounding more of a question than a suggestion. 

Steve nodded. With there being so much in common between the pair already, Steve deeply hoped that they'd stay friends. He'd never had the best luck at friendships; they'd all left him for different groups, seeking a bigger crowd. Steve never had anyone constant in his life. 

"I like Gmork. It's unique."


	5. friends

There's something incredibly beneficial about having a lengthy and wholehearted conversation with someone new in your life. The feeling of gaining a new friend has an everlasting impact on a young soul such as Steve. Though, there is one thing better than gaining a new friend: gaining two.

Shuri Onyilogwu had hastily pushed the sliding door to the booth off to the side, while simultaneously taking a big breath. She stood strong, and was easily taller than both Steve and Bucky. Her dark, curly hair was tied up in a bun atop her head. Steve was envious of the way her ebony skin glowed in the light; she was radiating beauty. He had to quickly pick his jaw up before it fell to the floor. 

"Hello, my name is Shuri. It's nice to meet you both. Uh, has anyone seen a toad? A student by the name of Peter Quill has lost his," she said matter-of-factly in one breath, ever so slightly too loud. Steve and Bucky winced at the volume, and shook their heads in unison.

"I see you have pets of your own," she grinned as she plopped herself down on the seat next to Steve, and she began to pet Gmork. Her eyes darted over to Bucky. "And, what's that?"

"Don't be rude. I'm a human, not his pet," he retorted with a chuckle. Shuri rolled her eyes in his direction. "It's a bearded dragon." 

"Bearded dragons aren't allowed at Hogwarts," she huffed and cooed at Gmork in Steve's arms.

"Wow, Dumbledore. You look different today," Bucky rolled his eyes, before removing Falcor from his shoulder and giving the top of the dragons head a quick peck. If Steve wasn't mistaken, the dragon smiled. "If a dark wizard that looks like my Falcor, if not worse, can set foot into the Hogwarts campus, my Falcor sure as hell can, too."

The three sat in the booth for the next four and a half hours, discussing in great detail which house they would be sorted into and why. Shuri explained to Steve each and every house and what the members stood for; Shuri had chosen Hufflepuff for herself. Students sorted into Hufflepuff are known to be loyal, trustworthy, hardworking, and honest. Shuri beamed as she spoke of her desired house, grinning from ear to ear at the thought of finding others like her. Steve had asked how they would be sorted into their houses. 

"The Sorting Hat, of course!" Shuri exclaimed, surprised that Steve knew so little about their new school. "You really know nothing about Hogwarts?" 

Steve's fingers curled into Gmork's fur, trying to find something to anchor himself down with; to keep his mind there. If he thought too much about the unknown, about his future, he would bring on a panic attack. With a deep breath that he released before speaking, he spoke of his life so far. How his parents died in a house fire when he was very young, and was adopted by the Maximoff's. His adoptive parents, close friends with his own parents, had kept his abilities secret. Steve told Bucky and Shuri the way he'd felt deep down all his life; that he was different, and that was all confirmed by the lab letter's contents. Steve knew absolutely nothing about Hogwarts, about magic in general, and that his entire day felt like an alternate universe. 

"Wow," Bucky breathed. "You've had a really strange day." 

Steve nodded in Bucky's direction as he pulled the smartphone from his pocket. He pressed the lock button on his phone, bringing up the picture of his family that he had been looking at in the taxi. 

"Word of advice: send them a text before we get to Hogwarts," Shuri spoke quietly, only to Steve. "Once we get there in about twenty minutes, the energy in the air will completely drain your phone of power. It's letters and parcels from here on out."

Steve brought up his message app as Shuri hovered over his shoulder. He typed out a simple text along the lines of 'I love you, stay safe', after typing and deleting his complex messages for a few minutes, and tapped the send button. Momentarily, after the message had shown to be delivered, Steve's phone screen flickered to black. 

"You don't know a spell to turn this back on, do you?" Steve was half serious, half facetious, as his eyes darted between Bucky and Shuri. They both shook their heads. 

"Even if we did, we can't perform it now. We have a boat to catch," Bucky rose from his seat opposite Steve in the train booth, securing Falcor atop his head. The dragon gripped onto tufts of Bucky's hair, making him wince. "Careful lizard. Ow! I'm sorry, I forgot you don't like that word."

Steve chuckled as he watched Bucky rub his head, careful of his dragon. Out of nowhere, Shuri perched a white owl on her shoulder, petting it in the process. 

"Where did that come from?" Steve asked. 

"She's been here the whole time," Shuri gestured to the spot on the floor next to her. "She was napping." 

"What's her name?" They were walking down the hallway now, about to disembark the train. 

"Celeste, and she's an ural owl. The prettiest," she turned around and grinned at Steve, before stepping off the train. Her exit was graceful compared to Steve's, having long legs and all. Steve always looked like a newborn deer as he walked. He stumbled off the train and earned a few giggles from a number of other students stood around the train car. Blush crept up Steve's face to his cheeks as he grew embarrassed. He buried his face into Gmork, and gathered around Hagrid, who was ushering everyone over. 

"First years, this way please! Don't be shy. Come on now, hurry up."

Steve gazed at Bucky as he looked around at their surroundings, following suit and taking it in. The air was cool and the sky had grown dark. They could hear crickets nearby in the greenery, and water sloshing lightly. 

"This way to the boats!" Hagrid announced as hundreds of first years, donned in long black robes, followed closely behind.


	6. the sorting hat

The air was chilly enough to turn Steve's breath into a cloud, and his nose into ice. Along the water, the first years rowed their way to Hogwarts, being very careful not to capsize their tiny boats during their journey. From looking at it alone, Steve could tell that the moat surrounding Hogwarts was bitterly cold, and just the slightest bit of it would sent Steve into an uncontrollable shiver. He desperately tried his best to keep warm, pulling the robe tighter around his body and shuffling closer to Shuri.

Once the students had disembarked their boats, Shuri shyly turned to Steve and gave him a smile. She had her fists tightly stuffed in the robes pockets, as did Steve, and he cottoned on to the fact that she was grateful for the warmth they'd shared. Steve's teeth began to chatter away as they climbed the steep staircase concealed within the rocks, on the edge of the island where Hogwarts sat. His inhaler felt heavy in his left robe pocket, warning him that if he didn't take the stairs at a slower pace he would have to use it. That was the last thing he wanted; to be known as the kid with numerous health issues. For the first half of his life, Steve had been treated like glass. He hated it.

It wasn't easy, but Steve managed to climb the gruelling staircase without a single puff from his inhaler. He grinned to himself as they entered the castle, massive archways inviting them in. Long corridors guiding them, lit with lamps that adorned the brick walls. The flames danced around the hall, creating a comfortable and welcoming atmosphere. Steve already felt at home.

The trio, after their lengthy and exhausting day, could barely lift their legs to climb yet another staircase. Possibly, the guides took pity on them, as this seemed to be one of the last legs of their days journey. They all audibly sighed in relief.

"Welcome, first years! I'm sure many of you were previously educated about Hogwarts and the world of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Some of you not," the woman stood atop the staircase announced, her eyes falling on a few students including Steve. "Each of you will be sorted into a house. In these houses you will win points, and be in the running for the House Cup." A round of applause caused the woman to stop, and she took the time to adjust her pointed black hat. "The houses consist of Gryffindor, house of the courageous, chivalrous, and brave. Ravenclaw, the house of the clever, creative, and wise. Hufflepuff, home to the dedicated, hardworking, and loyal. And finally, Slytherin, the house of the resourceful, ambitious, and cunning."

A round of applause engulfed the students, whistles and cheers of the hopeful first years making Steve wince at the volume. From the traits that the woman had announced, Steve wished to be placed in Gryffindor. Though, didn't everyone? It would be a wonderful thing to be considered brave and courageous,  Steve pondered. The witch atop the staircase guided them through large doors, that slowly creaked open to welcome them inside. Steve couldn't believe his eyes; he'd never seen anything like it. 

The great hall was enormous, and four long dark wood tables stretched out all the way to the front of the hall. Hundreds could be seated in here; on each sides of the tables were bench seats that ran the entire length. Steve could feel those hundreds of eyes boring through his body, and suddenly he felt incredibly small. Students of all years sniggered at the crowd of first years, dawdling down the pathway between tables, taking everything in. Steve looked in amazement above, as candles appeared to be floating before a dazzling galaxy of stars and planets. Bucky leant over and whispered into Steve's ear, that it was just an illusion, but Steve couldn't care less. Second to his acceptance letter, it was the most amazing thing he had ever seen.

They stood before a row of professors, who each introduced themselves to the first years. Steve already knew of the principal, Albus Dumbledore, who stood tall and was dressed in a grey robe. He had a long, white beard and a pointed hat, as did the woman that described the Hogwarts houses and traits. Her name was Professor McGonagall, and Steve remembered her signature scrawled at the bottom of his acceptance letter. Next introduced was Bruce Banner, the Potions professor. He gave a genuine, beaming smile to the first years, and Steve immediately liked him. The Charms professor introduced herself as Gamora, and just Gamora was all she was known as. Steve heard chatter that her name consisted of five words, so his poor memory silently thanked her for just sticking to one. She was beautiful, with black to red ombred hair, and she had a light green tinge to her skin. Steve did think it was odd, though he had just found out the ridiculous truth that he was a wizard, so it hardly phased him.

Next to introduce themselves were the professors of Astronomy and Transfiguration. The Astronomy teacher, Tony Stark,  had a distinctive facial hair style. He had a mustache and a sleek, styled goatee, which made him look very smart and attractive. Stephen Strange announced himself as the Transfiguration professor, and oddly enough his appearance was similar to that of Tony Stark's. His cheekbones however, sat very high and gave him a chiseled look.

Peggy Carter was Hogwarts' Herbology professor. Her dark brown hair framed her face in ringlets, falling at a long bob. She was beautiful, which was emphasised by her light makeup, her red lipstick made her look fierce. Steve would be lying if he said he didn't have a boy crush on the professor. The last to announce their position was Loki Laufeyson, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. His long black hair was slicked back, and his skin was porcelain, both giving him a striking contrast in appearance. The way Loki smiled at his students made Steve shudder, and to his surprise he felt Bucky do the same. 

Professor McGonagall held a pointed hat close. It looked very torn, the fabric a mixture of what looked like suede and leather. It's patched with a burlap material, and frayed on the seams. There was a tear along the brim. The professor announced that the hat would sort each student into whichever house seemed fitting. Nerves crept up through Steve's body, his anxiety making him shiver as he watched a few dozen students get sorted into different houses. 

Steve watched as Shuri confidently took her place in Hufflepuff, the Sorting Hat wasting no time in placement. The moment the hat touched her head, she was immediately sorted. Shuri beamed, proud to become a member of the house she desired.

Steve and Bucky began to shift on their feet; their aching bodies paying the price for not being the first dozen chosen. The hat was taking its time with most of the students, choosing to be very indecisive. Or maybe, these students were hard to read; too complex for even the enchanted Sorting Hat to decide with ease. As Steve began to get lost in thought, a familiar name was announced. 

Bucky hid his trembling hands deep inside his robe pockets, looking visibly tense. The hat debated with itself for a good few minutes, mentioning different traits that Bucky posessed, darting back and forth between decisions. Finally, the hat decided on Ravenclaw, and Bucky's shoulders fell with relief that he wasn't placed in Slytherin, earning a chuckle from the hat as it was removed. 

When the professor called Steve's name, he froze for a moment, toying with the idea of escaping his fate. Though, Steve couldn't deny that he was incredibly curious. What house would the hat choose for him? 

Slowly but surely, Steve ascended the few stairs to the podium where a single chair sat. He cautiously lowered himself down, taking a seat, feeling professor McGonagall's presence to his right. The hat was weighty, the pressure surprising Steve as it was lowered onto his head. It vibrated as the enchanted hat spoke, which made Steve gasp ever so slightly.

"Ah, hmm, yes. A difficult one, I feel," the hat pondered. "I feel that this one is a leader, a very strong leader indeed. He is determined, a tad stubborn; will never back down from a fight. One might say courageous, another brave-" The hat paused after hearing Steve whisper Ravenclaw repetitively, hoping to be sorted alongside Bucky. 

"Ravenclaw? My, you are not a Ravenclaw," the hat scoffed. "I have no doubt that you, Steve Rogers, are a Slytherin!"


	7. commencement

The stairs felt cold, hard, and lifeless under Steve's shoes, yet full of life and responsive at the same time. He tilted his head over the edge of railing to look below at the hoards of students navigating their way through the building, first years clutching to their new friends in fear. An immense sense of pride and accomplishment washed over Steve; his newfound confidence made him braver than the rest of his follow house members. Following closely behind the guide taking the group of first year Slytherins to their common room, Steve ascended the staircase even as it moved beneath him. It grumbled and groaned under the weight as it directed them the proper way, having a mind of it's own.

It was then, at that moment, that it really sunk in. Steve was a Slytherin, the very house he excluded from his choices. He'd desperately whispered to himself, hoping to be sorted into the same house as Bucky, to feel a sense of normalcy for once in this new place he had to call home for the next year, and many more. Though, what about his day had been normal? His life had been uprooted, his family torn away, and the gift of magic had been bestowed on him. An ability Steve had throughout his entire life, sitting dormant inside him, a secret.

Suddenly, Steve felt a tap on his left shoulder. He whipped his head around, and was met with a pair of big brown eyes, inviting and warm. Steve already trusted him; the boy had an aura about him, he felt more of a Gryffindor than Slytherin, noticeable by his presence alone. The boy held his hand out, a very friendly gesture, and Steve accepted. As they shook hands, the boy introduced himself as Rocket. He told Steve that he admired his confidence, blurting out that he was extremely nervous.

"Your folks named you Rocket?" Steve asked as he raised an eyebrow, looking at the boy with a smirk playing on his lips. Never before had he heard a name so unusual.

"My name is Roderick," the boy chuckled, nervously rubbing the back of his neck as he spoke. As he did so, his dark curls bounced and swayed, causing him to run a hand through it. "My twin brother, Peter, could never pronounce it when we were young. I guess Rocket stuck."

"Peter, as in Peter Quill?"

"You know my brother?" Rocket's eyes shone as he spoke; Steve could tell that he had a lot of love for his brother. He longed to know the feeling. Steve did love his brother, but Pietro always gave him a hard time.

"I heard his name on the train," Steve recalled. "A friend of mine said he lost a toad."

Rocket laughed, as if he was imagining the event unfolding in his mind. He nodded. "Yeah, that does sound like him. You got a name?"

"My name is Steve. Steve Rogers."

"Ah, a Rogers has finally returned!" Rocket exclaimed, they both felt prying eyes lay on them instantly, making Rocket lower his tone to something more subtle, as they began to ascend another staircase. His voice seemed to echo into the chasm below. "You must've been doing magic since you were a newborn or somethin', being so powerful and all. We read about the families in those yearbooks, the ones with moving pictures," he gushed and rambled on. "I guess you've got to be pretty eager to get into the swing of things, your parents must be so happy to have a wizard back at Hogwarts!"

Steve didn't want to disappoint Rocket, who had a beaming smile plastered on his face. Rocket was so excited and distracted having met Steve, he was almost falling up the stairs. "They've been gone for a long time," Steve smiled weakly. "House fire. Never knew I was a wizard," Steve chuckled in disbelief. He still felt as if it was all a dream.

"I'm sorry," Rocket sighed. "I had no idea. You really didn't know you were a wizard? Steve, your family are all legends. You never read about them, never?"

Steve shook his head. "I guess there's a first for everything," he spoke before the guide came to a stop. They had reached the top of a staircase which had come to a grinding halt. Above them stood a large archway, green banners adorned with embroidered snakes were hung neatly on the wall above rows of paintings. The paintings moved, a few of the people in the portraits sat eagerly awaiting the new first years, clapping and cheering. Steve and Rocket exchanged a look of both confusion and excitement. Neither of them had noticed the animated paitings before.

"Behind me is the Slytherin Common Room, and the upstairs holds your bedrooms. You will be separated into pairs, so choose wisely who you will spend the next year cooped up with," Rocket linked arms with Steve as the guide spoke. "Your belongings will be delivered to your chosen rooms later on this evening. In an hour, we expect everyone to be seated in the Great Hall for supper. Please be punctual, tardiness does not make a good first impression with your older housemates," the guide stepped to the side and extended his arm toward the archway.

Students slowly poured into the Common Room, admiring the roaring fire within the fireplace, which sat below a large television. Steve felt drawn to a wall of portraits in the corner, yet this time they weren't animated. They seemed to be more lively than those enchanted, the emotions emitting from them hitting Steve. His eyes fell on a portrait of a woman with blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. She had porcelain skin, and smiled widely. Her eyes crinkled in the corners, showing genuine emotion. Below the photo were two words, but Steve couldn't process them properly; the shock numbed him.

"Whoa," Rocket breathed next to him. "That's her. Sarah, that's your mother. You look so much like her."

Steve couldn't bring himself to reply, as he'd looked at the portrait to the right. A man with thick eyebrows, and his lips pressed into a thin smile in amongst his short beard struck another emotion within Steve. He gasped quietly as he read the name below. Joseph Rogers. His parents.

He wished he could pull out his phone and snap a photo; he wanted to have them with him at all times. Steve's phone felt heavy in his pocket, the guilt of leaving his family behind and discovering a new one was too much to bear for one day. With a deep sigh, Steve smiled at Rocket, nudging him as he walked past and made his way to the stairs. He was thankful that these didn't move beneath him, and for once he wasn't out of breath as he reached the top. It seemed he'd been left breathless the entire day.

Rocket and Steve decided to choose a room at the end of the hall, avoiding the noise from the Common Room below and numerous parties in the first lot of bedrooms. They pushed the door open together, revealing the place they'd now call home; their escape for the rest of the year, away from potions and spells, away from the unbelievable realisation that Steve himself was a wizard. He had to pinch himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming.

The room was large, there were two poster beds on opposing walls. A window seat overlooked the moat that surrounded their small island, and the view looked beautiful, even in the blanket of near darkness that lay over the horizon.


	8. potions

A/N: I'm so sorry y'all, sometimes I get too hard on myself and put off posting for ages because I'm convinced my writing is shit. I also battled a sinus infection as I was trying to smash chapters out like crazy and I couldn't get out of bed for at least a week. My brain felt like it was on fire and it was the worst pain I have ever felt in my life. Please if you have sinus headaches that won't go away, go to the doctor. Please don't make the same mistake that I did. OK, with all that said, I hope you enjoy my birthday gift to you all (I'm 21 today)! Enjoy the chapter and there are more to come. 

××××

 

The following day was filled with blossoming friendships and an abundance of magic. Though, Steve considered his new group of friends to be magic alone; friends were a rare commodity during his childhood. The group had earned the name Fantastic Four, the name conjured up by Rocket. He and Steve decided to sit together through their first class, and were quickly joined by Bucky and Shuri. To Steve's surprise, they all got along splendidly, and he was grateful to see the other two again. 

The previous day had been a whirlwind for Steve; leaving his old life behind, becoming a wizard, and seeing his birth parents. He told Shuri and Bucky all about them; what their names were, what they looked like, their reputation at Hogwarts left behind for Steve to follow. They'd seen their entire schooling at Hogwarts, even earning some big awards for their participation in the process. Steve's mother, Sarah, was a significant and memorable Quiddich player. 

Rocket had explained the bare minimum rules of the game to Steve. "It's like soccer, but in the air," Rocket explained with a shrug. Steve asked how it could possibly be played in the air. "Well, broomsticks of course!" 

Their teams' sports photos were proudly displayed inside a display cabinet in the Slytherin Common Room, Steve had found. What made Steve feel at ease was that just like him, his own parents were sorted into Slytherin. Steve kept hearing the saying repeated around him, 'not all Slytherin's are bad', but what about Lord Voldemort, he thought. The subject even being too taboo to think about since the incident years ago, but someone has to be bound to say it. Just the mention of his name in the slightest sent wizards and witches into a panic and a frenzy. 

Not once did Steve want to be associated with such a monster. He'd rather be in the same house as that of the brave wizard who fought against and conquered Voldemort. The boy so valiant and brave to stand up against someone so malicious and destructive. Instead of being associated with heroes, he was associated with villains.

Hogwarts had never been the same from that moment forward; major security measures were put in place to prevent something of the sort from ever happening again. Though, Steve wondered if it was enough. The world of magic was too powerful and complex for him to wrap his mind around, Steve knew there was bound to be a greater power out in the seemingly infinite world that's yet to be explored. 

As Steve wandered off into the depths of his imagination, Bucky nudged him lightly, rousing Steve from his thoughts. Professor Banner liked to talk with his hands, the Fantastic Four had noticed quite early on. The professor had almost knocked over a row of test tubes full of multicoloured liquids as he outlined the lesson, cussing in the process. Steve allowed himself to relax a little, since the professor was very laid back, his shoulders falling forward with a soft sigh.

"This potion is very useful I'm sure, as most of you are feeling quite overwhelmed at this time. Please don't abuse the power of potions, everyone. Especially this one," the professor warned. "Today, we will be brewing a potion that relieves agitation and anxiety; the Draught of Peace. You will find every ingredient that you will need on your tables, and I trust that you have found groups to carry out this lesson with," Banner said as his eyes scanned the room. 

Chatter broke out amongst the students as the professor quietened down and the lesson further commenced. Rocket read a list aloud to the group, the instructions very specific and precise. Shuri was nervous that they would mess up the process, with there being such ridiculous ingredients and all. Powdered moonstone? None of them had heard of it. As well as powdered unicorn horn (which the students had no idea were not at all a myth), syrup of hellebore, and powdered porcupine quills. 

The moment the instructions were finished, they all looked into the cauldron to find a dazzling blue liquid. Bucky was getting his test tubes ready, eager to gather as much of the serum as possible. They allowed the mixture to simmer as other students caught up, losing themselves in conversation in the meantime. Rocket spoke more of Quiddich; flying brooms and golden snitches were too much information for Steve's brain to handle after the couple of days he'd had. He was still trying to process the discovery of his parents photos. Steve watched intently as Shuri and Bucky distributed the potion evenly between eight test tubes, two for each of them. 

Bucky sighed with relief, as the last of the potion dripped from the ladle. "Wouldn't it be funny if I'd dropped it?" he chuckled. Bucky's chuckle was followed by a loud metallic clatter. With a cuss, he swiped the blue liquid up off the tabletop with his fingers, and brought them to his mouth. Bucky didn't want to be wasteful; the ingredients probably being more expensive than their school supplies combined. The other three watched as he lapped up the potion, licking his fingers clean and smacking his lips together comically. Moments later, Steve bolted to his side, catching Bucky as he lifelessly fell from his lab stool. 

"Everyone, pay attention here," Professor Banner's voice startled them. He gestured to the Fantastic Four's table. "Let this serve as a reminder to pay close attention to the instructions."

Shuri skimmed over the sheet they had been given, her brows furrowing. Steve heard her whisper that they'd done everything right. She shook her head in disbelief, a glimmer of guilt in her eyes as she glanced at Bucky slumped over in Steve's arms. 

"Kid, please take your friend up to his room," the professor guided Steve to the door. "Let your friends know to take it easy on the potion."

Steve nodded before spinning on his heel, heading for the dynamic and animated staircase. It was a mission getting Bucky to his Ravenclaw Common Room, his weight on his left shoulder being the lesser problem. Bucky's fellow housemates' eyes were trained on Steve as he plodded through the shared area; he felt out of place and judged. Nobody came to help, which Steve thought was very out of character. Though, there weren't very many students around, being lesson hours and all. So, Steve decided to knock on each and every single door until eventually, a sick student emerged from a room further down the hall.

"Do you mind?" the student said with a nasal voice, his nose a light shade of red and eyes puffy. His robe was two sizes too big, engulfing his tiny frame, making him look frailer. "Are you looking for Bucky's room? It's right down the end of the hall."

Steve strode past the student, eager to rid the weight from his shoulder. "Hey, thanks," he gave the boy a genuine smile. He stopped and glanced at the student behind him. "You should talk to the potions professor, Banner. He might be able to help with that cold of yours."

At the end of the hall, Steve was met with a closed door directly in the center of the hall. He swung the door open, which revealed a room smaller than his and Rocket's. There was only one bed (the same as Steve's), a trunk which was being used as a nightstand, a wardrobe, and a bay window with a seat built in beneath it. Steve grew sad at the thought of Bucky being alone every night, nobody to share the events of his day with. Laying in silence as the other kids giggled late into the night with each other, sharing jokes and making memories. Bucky wouldn't have that; he was alone. Though, sometimes, loneliness could have its perks. 

Steve carefully placed Bucky down on his bed, pulling the blankets up over him after he'd curled up on his side. Steve couldn't bear to leave his friend alone; he'd wake up alone and confused, so Steve grabbed spare bedding from the bed and settled down on the seat beneath the bay window. Soon enough, he was dreaming of magic and his friends.


	9. halloween

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somehow cross dressing Steve has made an appearance? I guess? If you count this as cross dressing? I do really love the idea and pre-serum Steve would DEFINITELY enjoy it! Sorry for the long hiatus. I don't really have a set posting schedule and Breath of the Wild exists on the Nintendo Switch so that's my excuse... lol

The sound of cheers perked up Steve's ears, waking him from his slumber. Moments passed before his mind caught up with him, remembering the days events; saving Bucky from braining himself on the floor, and accompanying him as he slept. With a quick glance over to the bed, Steve noticed it was empty. Panic set in. Steve was in a completely unfamiliar dorm, a house different to his own, with barely anyone that he knew with the exception of Bucky. Groggily, he stiffly pushed himself off the bay window seat, the uncomfortable and thin cushion having given him a sore back. Steve winced as he tried to massage it, placing the spare bedding back on the bed in the process. He plonked himself down on the end and placed his head in his hands, elbows resting on his thighs.

Steve heard the door handle turn, followed by the heavy creak of rusty hinges. Bucky was met with a frantic, shrieking voice. Where were you? Are you feeling okay? Do you need help?

"Don't shit y'self, Steve. I just needed the restroom for a minute," Bucky saw Steve visibly relax, wincing as he sat back down on the bed. Steve gave Bucky a weak smile and apologised. "Why's your back sore, old man?"

"Uh," Steve chuckled. "Don't sleep on the window seat," he gestured to the big window behind them. "It's the most uncomfortable thing I've ever slept on."

"Why did you sleep in here anyways?" Bucky cocked his head at Steve. "Are you a worrywart? The mum friend?" he chuckled.

"I guess," Steve looked at his hands, which were laced together in his lap. "I was overlooked a lot back home; I don't think anyone really noticed that I was tryin' to keep things in order. My parents did a pretty good job, but nobody sees things a little kid sees, you know?" Steve paused, and Bucky took that as a cue to nod, not interrupting. "I always knew my brother was up to no good, and when he bought drugs into our-" Steve cut himself off. "I'm sorry, I'm rambling," he said as he stood, making his way to the door.

"No, that's okay, you can keep talking," Bucky reached out a hand, inviting Steve back. 

"I think I'm done for now," Steve let out a shaky sigh and brushed his hands over his shirt, even though they weren't dirty. That was a nervous tick for him. "Plus, I don't think they really allow other house members into a different houses dorm."

"No, they don't," Bucky laughed, running a hand through his hair. It immediately fell back in his face. "Guess that makes you pretty badass then."

"Guess so," Steve smiled before he left Bucky's dorm room.

Steve slept roughly that night, tossing and turning every few minutes, as did Bucky. For Steve, it was the word vomit that he had so desperately tried to contain in his short time at Hogwarts so far; it was yet another of his anxious ticks. For Bucky, it was the thought of Steve. His friend was almost getting to the interesting part of the story, which is always his favourite part. Bucky had always been a big reader; losing himself in the fictional fantasy world, reading beyond the paper pages and imagining himself in the characters' world. Why did Steve stop? Did he not trust Bucky? Was it the start of one of his deepest secrets?

The next few weeks seemed to fly by; the Fantastic Four had learned to brew numerous potions and cast countless spells. Bucky never pressured Steve about the overshare, which Steve was eternally grateful for. They had grown closer as time went on, and Bucky felt a genuine happiness within him. One that coursed through him and radiated around him; he was buzzing. Until this point, Bucky had never realised how unhappy he was. Possibly, the large carved pumpkins littered around the Hogwarts campus could have influenced his mood. Halloween had always been Bucky's favourite holiday of the year, closely followed by Christmas. Vampire fangs, fake blood, black eyeliner and white concealer were always his go-to for a great costume. 

As the four all sat together at the very end of the tables in the Great Hall, they admired the illusion of flying bats, cobwebs, and candles floating above them. They had snuck in last to be able to sit at the Gryffindor table with Shuri, telling the students that they were very shy and never left their dorm rooms when they were asked why the other three hadn't been seen. Their lies earned convincing nods from the unsuspecting students. 

"So, Roderick, who are you dressing up as for the first years' party later?" Shuri nudged Rocket with her elbow, who gave her a scowl.

"I'll dress up as you if you don't stop calling me by my real name," he rolled his eyes and smirked in Steve's direction. A few weeks had been enough time for the roommates' friendship develop further, the duo having become best friends. "I'm going as a raccoon," he smiled proudly.

"A raccoon?" she cocked her head at Rocket, puzzled by his answer. "Why a raccoon?"

Rocket wished so badly to play his favourite video game at his new high school, but regardless, screens didn't work on campus. He figured it was some kind of spell cast over the island, almost like a cloak or a dome, to protect their secret from reaching the muggle world via social media. Animal Crossing had consumed hundreds of hours of Rocket's life so far. "It's one of my favourite video game characters," he shrugged.

"I'm going as a vampire!" Bucky exclaimed without having been asked. Shuri nodded in response, telling him that he would make a great vampire. 

"Shuri and I planned to go to the party as Peter Pan and Tinker Bell," Steve spoke as he glanced in Shuri's direction, giving her a warm smile. Bucky's eyes darted between the two. Oh, he thought. That's happening. "She bought the costumes last week after I agreed, so there's no backing out now," Steve chuckled.

As they chatted away, their meal appeared in front of them magically. Silver platters piled with perfectly cooked and crispy meat decorated the table, with silver bowls of assorted salads and sides sat between. Bucky heaped a pile of roasted pumpkin onto his plate, one of his favourite vegetables because of this particular holiday. The flavour made him reminiscent of the past; going out past nightfall and knocking on his neighbours doors, surrounded by all of his good friends. He was miles from home now, and beginning to feel it.


	10. tinkerbell

Like true Rebecca fashion we're just gonna act like I haven't been gone for three months and that it's definitely not 2:30 am...

 

 

Steve closed his eyes and deeply inhaled the nostalgic scent effusing from his candle. The one he'd carefully placed atop the clothing in his suitcase of belongings before coming to Hogwarts, possibly the most meaningful of the contents. It filled him with such joy, causing him to grin from ear to ear, as he stood in front of the full length mirror and marveled at his Halloween costume. Rocket hadn't stopped cackling for about a half hour, wheezing at the moment he'd seen Steve's getup. Steve, however, thought he looked great. 

The short green skirt showed off Steve's slender long legs, and gave him an hourglass silhouette. He looked at his reflection, skimming his eyes over the sweetheart neckline that seemed to accentuate his collarbones, making him look frail and dainty. Steve's hair had grown out a tad since the beginning of the school year, making it a fitting length to dress as Tinkerbell, minus the bun. His translucent fairy wings fluttered in the cool breeze that drifted in from Steve and Rocket's bedroom window.

Possibly, it was the uplifting scent of the candle that was making Steve feel so great about this night; about the way he looked. He'd never been so confident.

"Nice butt, Tinkerbell," Rocket, yet again, burst into a fit of giggles.

"Says the one who's dressed as a pudgy raccoon in a green grandpa sweater vest," Steve retorted, watching Rocket recoil sarcastically. He really was wearing a sweater vest, complete with a diamond pattern on the front and styled over a long white collard shirt. Rocket had stuffed a cushion under the vest, making the look more fitting for the character. "You look like a right mong."

"When Shuri said you were both going as Peter Pan and Tinkerbell, I thought it would be the other way around," Rocket stood in the doorway with a hand on his plush belly. Steve got the hint, and waltzed over to blow out the candle that sat on the trunk at the end of his bed. 

"Me too, but she said it's more fitting for a blonde to dress as a blonde," he shrugged, following Rocket out and softly closing their dorm room behind them. "Besides, I look dashing."

They stepped into a room full of characters; everyone dressed in their best costumes, conversing and mingling over snacks and drinks in the Great Hall. Rocket headed in a beeline toward the punch, which he was secretly hoping was spiked. Giggling, Steve scanned the room for a familiar face. He was met with pairs of eyes, in expressions of bewilderment and contempt as they swept over Steve's body. Anxiety crept to the surface inside him; Steve's skin turning a blushed pink as he averted his eyes to the floor in embarrassment. He personally enjoyed the way he looked; he had felt pretty and dainty back in the comfort of his and Rocket's dorm, exploring a different and more feminine side of himself he never thought was present. 

A reassuring hand snaked its way up Steve's arm, prying his eyes from the hardwood floor below. They were met with the warmest baby blue's; inches from his own and piercing through his entire being.

"Did you put in contacts?" Steve's mouth was suddenly as dry as sandpaper. He barely managed to squeak out his question with the little breath he had, after the majority was ripped from his lungs at the sight before him. Bucky's skin was porcelain and fair, his eyes were framed by a subtle wash of smoky black, accentuating his piercing blue contacts. Steve's heart beat at what felt like three thousand miles per minute, his cheeks growing more flushed with each passing second. The boy in front of him flashed his pearly whites; canines longer and pointed than the rest of his teeth.

"That's nothing compared to what you've got going on, Steve!" Bucky nudged Steve lightly on the shoulder. The blonde stumbled slightly, before delicately lifted the hem of his dress and curtsying, earning a chuckle from Bucky. Steve ducked his head subtly, rapidly becoming erubescent with each passing second, his arms drawing together in a pathetic attempt to hide the ostentatious outfit.

As the night drew on, the rooms liveliness only grew. Platters of nibbles were brought out by the friendly ghosts that inhabited the castle, and many students were weary to trust them. Rocket, however, was inhaling most of the food. His confidence gave the rest of the group enough encouragement to begin piling their plates high with an assortment of delicious and perfectly cooked food. Steve's personal favourite was the tofu. He'd expressed his desire to try it in the past; being curious about eating less meat and saving the planet and what-not. Pietro had laughed at him, sitting opposite the blond at their parents' dinner table. 

"Tofu is for little bitches, only men eat real meat like-"

"Pietro, none of that language at the dinner table, please," their mother sighed, she closed her eyes and shook her head lightly. "Steve's right, maybe the first step to saving the planet is to eat less meat. Just like recycling, or walking instead of taking the car. I think it's sweet that you're focusing on that, rather than what other kids are doing nowadays."

Pietro rolled his eyes and sneered at Steve, knowing full well that their mothers comment was directed at him. Steve looked down at his plate of food with a grin on his face, wondering if he could really make a difference to the planet.

The morsel he popped in his mouth had a soft and light crunch, before exploding with flavour and texture on his tongue, the peppercorn and salt coating both stark contrasts but complementing each other well along with the chilli and garlic marinade they were barbecued in. It was everything he'd imagined and more, shoveling more into his mouth and experiencing it countless more times. Food tastes a lot better after being hyped up for so long, Steve realised. He wondered if there was anything else on the tremendous platter displayed in front of him, beckoning his name, demanding to be the next phenomenal bite.

Long after finishing their meals, the group stayed seated at the dining table, bloated and content, engaging in conversation that had everyone and Steve wheezing especially. Mostly from his asthma troubling him at the most inconvenient time. He cleared his throat before speaking.

"I'm just going to pop out for a moment," Steve stood, grabbing his inhaler that sat next to his glass of water. "I need some air."

The castle sent Steve through a journey through the endless maze of halls, or so it felt when your lungs are being squeezed through your trachea. In reality, it was only a couple of hundred steps. He stumbled out onto the grassy courtyard, pressed himself against the stone wall and deeply inhaled a single puff from his inhaler, before slumping forward and catching his breath. A pair of sleek black dress shoes caught the corner of Steve's vision, and the blond hastily tilted his head up to look, despite knowing exactly who it was.

"You come to suck my blood, or something?" Steve asked, breathing out a heavy laugh, his hands on his bent knees supporting his weight against the wall like he'd just run a marathon, still slightly out of breath.

"Something like that," the vampire chuckled, also supporting himself against the wall. "You doing okay?"

"I've dealt with this my whole life, Bucky. I can manage it okay at this point," Steve smiled weakly, relaxing his head.

"Water?" the vampire handed Steve a glass of cool water, which the blond gladly took and gulped half down. "I take that as a yes."

"Yes, thank you, Buck. I'm sorry for running out, I didn't mean to ruin a good moment. Everyone looked like they were having a great time," Steve sighed, his asthma had always been an inconvenience. Lately Pietro had been saying Steve was faking it, laughing in his face whenever he would struggle to breathe, playing with his inhaler and keeping out of reach so that the shorter boy would have to jump to try reach it. Pietro's fun was always short-lived, though. Steve swore his mother had a sixth sense when Pietro would pick on him.

"They were, until they got worried 'bout you and sent me out here," Bucky took a swig of the water and hummed in content at the water soothing his throat. "Isn't this when we whip out cigarettes, like in the films? And I ask you if you have a light?"

"Sure, take a drag," Steve played along and held his inhaler out to Bucky.

The vampire doubled over with laughter, before throwing an arm over the shorter boys shoulers, pulling him in close. "Come on, let's get back inside."


End file.
